


Not His Girlfriend

by IronicallyAngel



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Nygma's attraction to OC, Revenge Sex, Sex, Sexual Frustration, Stress Relief, Victor gets some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicallyAngel/pseuds/IronicallyAngel
Summary: Comments about the story are appreciated!





	1. Victor visits

Melody Musetta Connelly didn't stop when she heard a gun cock behind her head. She didn't even scream at the cool feel of the pistol's metal press against the nape of her neck. The blonde girl merely sighed. "Yes Zsasz? Can I help you?"

The bald man stepped out of the shadows and in front of her, holstering his weapon. "I'm looking for the boss. Haven't heard from him in a while."

The blue eyed girl raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What makes you think I know where Penguin is?" She asked, challengingly.

"Well… this is his house… you live here with him. Right? Aren't you his girlfriend?"

A flash of anger went through her bright eyes. "I'm not his girlfriend." She points out, sharply. She ignored Zsasz's smirk from her prickly response. "He left a week ago. Going on some weird trip…" She muttered, clearly annoyed.

“Ah… and boss left you here unprotected?” Victor asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah… because I don’t need protection…” She deadpans. "Nobody outside this estate really knows I exist, Zsasz." She explains, rolling her wide eyes.

"But doesn't it get lonely?" Victor said, sitting on the sofa, making himself right at home.

"It would be, if I was Oswald's girlfriend. I'm not. So I'm fine."

"Oh. So you call him by his first name, Lark?"

She growled. "You don't get to call me that!"

"Why not? Oswald does." He argues. "I'm also not your boyfriend."

Melody growled lowly. "Zsasz… he's not here. Okay?" She huffed.

Zsasz stood and took a step forward, grabbing the girl's jaw and squeezing it tightly in his hand. "You sure do look lonely."

The blonde didn't answer this time, embarrassed. The forceful grabbing caused a slight stir in her loins. She felt a red hue form on her fair skin. She was lonely, as a matter of fact. Oswald had only been gone for a week so far, but he's been so busy that he hasn't touched her for nearly a month. A whole twenty-six days, without his pleasing touch.

"Fuck off, Zsasz." She said, nonetheless, pushing him away from her.

Zsasz peeled off his leather gloves. "Tell you what, Birdie… if you really want me to leave, I will. But consider this… Penguin isn't here to satisfy you. You don't know when he'll be back. I can tell by looking at you that you probably only have been with Oswald as a consistent sex partner. And I can tell that right now, you need it bad."

His brown eyes trailed over her body, taking in her wide hips, her breasts inside her button down, her thighs in her jeans. He wouldn't mind trying her out. Like she said, she wasn't Oswald's girlfriend.

Melody swallowed a lump in her throat. "Look… Victor. Penguin-"

"Isn't here right now." He assassin finished.

"He-"

"Probably hasn't fucked you good in a long time."

The more Victor spoke like that, the more heat Melody felt between her legs. Can't he stop that? "Oswald-"

"Isn't your boyfriend."

Isn't your boyfriend. That was true. She just said it herself. Three words. Four, if you want to get technical about the contraction. 

Victor stepped closer, then held her hips. "He isn't your boyfriend…" He said, a purr to his voice.

Her breath hitched as she said in a strangled whisper, "Fuck it." She grabbed the bald man's face, pressing a hungry kiss to his lips.

Victor smirked and trailed his lips down her jaw to her slender neck, grabbing some of her blonde hair to move it out of the way.

Melody let out a breathy moan. "Oh damn it…" She whimpered and pressed the back of his head against her and she moved down to undo the buttons on her dark blue shirt to expose more of her creamy skin.

"Attagirl." Zsasz growled into her skin as he kissed the valley between her breasts, backing her up against the wall.

Melody gripped at a bookshelf beside her and he kissed along her exposed torso, quickly undoing the front hook of her black brassiere, pulling it off along with her undone shirt. He played with the waistband of her jeans. "So, Penguin calls you 'Lark'… That's a songbird right?" He said, unbuttoning her jeans, tugging the tight denim down to her ankles.

The blonde girl slowly nods. Zsasz grinned a bit. "Let's test the accuracy of that nickname, shall we?"

Before she could say another word, the hitman shoved his face between her legs, licking the girl through the fabric of her white underwear. She gasped and moaned, the feeling of his hot tongue, though covered with her cotton bottoms, was enough to excite her, her hand resting on the crown of his naked head.

Zsasz then nearly ripped her underwear off, lapping at her flower. Melody mewled, her knees wobbling on either side of his head. He reached up to toy with her breasts, rolling her pink buds between his fingers, her eyes brimming with tears from the pleasure she was receiving.

Before she could reach a state of ecstasy, Zsasz pulled away and smiled at her. Coldly, almost maliciously. He leaned in close. "I was right…" his breath was hot against her skin.

Melody looked up at him, confusion shining in her blue eyes. He grins, brushing a strand of her golden hair from her face. "He hasn't fucked you in a long ass time, huh?" The girl turned dark red.

"... Twenty-six days…" She admits.

"And counting, huh?" She looked down only for him to lift her chin. "Nothing wrong with a woman knowing exactly what she wants." He assured her, pressing his lips to hers. There was something almost sweet about this kiss. Until he grabbed her ass, causing her to squeak, prompting a laugh from him.

Zsasz then led her by her right hand to the sofa he sat on not too long ago. Meadow laid back and stared at the ceiling of Oswald's study. There were some some painted designs on the otherwise white roof above them, and Victor rolled up his sleeves, littered with scars. She remembered she walked into him cutting a line into his arm with a box cutter. She had demanded why he did so, and he explained his arm kept a tally of the number of people he's killed. He was an assassin after all.

He didn't bother to remove his shirt, or even completely remove his pants. He unbuttoned the leather pants and pushed them down until he could remove his large erection from them, sliding a rubber along the length.

Melody blushed as Victor prodded at her, leaning down to kiss her as he sheathed himself inside her warmth. Her legs went around his waist and her arms around his neck as he filled her to the hilt.

Melody let out a moan as he began to move his hips in a steady, constant pace, the sofa rocking with the movements. She began to make dirty, sexual noises; noises she hadn't made in almost a month. Little high pitched gasps, purrs, moans left her throat, when Victor placed a hand on her slender neck to gain her attention. He looked at her. "Now… Lark… you are going to cum for me. And when you do, I want you to sing for me."

Melody just nodded as he bucked harder into her, placing one of her long legs on his shoulder, fucking her into oblivion, until…

"Victor! Oh… f-fuck! Victor, i… holy shi- GOD DAMMIT! ZSASZ! VICTOR FUCKING ZSASZ!" She cried out, achieving her orgasm and tightening around his dick as he shot his load into his latex condom.

She panted and placed a hand over Victor's mouth. "This can never happen again."

He smirked. "Sure." He said, removing the rubber from his shaft.

"I mean it."

"Sure you do."

Zsasz won that bet.


	2. A Fallen Woman Should Be Forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments about the story are appreciated!

"Penguin called me." Melody said about a week later, pulling her top back on over her head.

Zsasz walks across her bedroom to collect his gloves. "Oh. Did he now?"

The blonde nodded. "He said he'd call you later, after I mentioned that you came looking for him."

"Did you tell him-"

"About how we bang more than bunnies? Don't be ridiculous. That's just absurd."

"You weren't complaining. This was what, round 2 of today?" Zsasz quipped, his dark brown eyes boring into her.

Her fair skin turned a bright red. "Shut up." She hissed.

Zsasz opened his mouth to say something when they heard the old disco song, Funkytown, play from his phone. He picked up his leather pants off her carpeted floor and fished his phone from his pocket. He flipped it open. "Yeah boss?"

Excited talking on the other end.

"Oh? Is that so?"

More animated talking.

"I see."

Short response.

"Yeah. I'll see you then." Zsasz snapped his phone shut, then fixed his gaze on the blue eyed girl. "Yeah… so… this has to stop. He's coming back."

The girl furrowed her brow. "... What?"

"Penguin. He's coming back tomorrow with Riddle boy." He declared, stepping into his pants. "I mean… he isn't your boyfriend, so I don't see why this can't happen… but you said it would be absurd to even mention it to him." He shot her an intense look. "Let alone do it in his house, right under his nose."

"... I know what you're trying to do." The girl said. The assassin looked at her, lifting a brow. If he had one. "You don't think I can last without you… but Oswald's coming back tomorrow."

"Yeah? And a week ago, you said he hadn't touched you in 26 days."

"I don't need you, Zsasz. What was I to you anyway? A pair of tits?" Melody scoffed, crossing her arms. "Something for you to play with when you were bored?"

"You were the most responsive prey I've had, Lark."

The girl shut her blue eyes and threw back her head, laughing outrageously. "Don't call me that." She said. "Get out."

Zsasz, without an argument, left her room like she asked.

~~~~~

Melody was surprised when Oswald wrapped his arms around her. Her face turned a soft rosy hue as she was pressed to his chest. “I missed you, my little Lark.” He greeted her sweetly.  
Melody thickly swallowed. “You, uh, you did?” She asked, shocked to say the least.

He nodded and ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Yes. I haven’t been giving you my attention. I neglected you, my dear.” He explained, his freckled face kind.

Edward stood in the back, awkwardly looking at the couple, turning his attention elsewhere. She gave the tall riddler a smile. He was always kind to her. He gave her a warm smile back. “Now let’s go inside.” Oswald said, taking Melody’s hand in his and walking into his home with the girl, Edward following the pair.

“Edward and I will be in my office a bit to discuss business. In an hour, I will meet you. Go on, my little Lark.” He said, shooing the girl with a soft pat on the small of her back. She headed toward Oswald’s room before she felt breath on her neck nape from behind her. 

“He’s already ignoring you again…” The assassin whispered, a shiver going down the girl’s spine. “We could do quite a bit in an hour.”

She growled. “Piss off, Zsasz. You said we’re done. And I won’t break.”

“Yeah? I’ll be waiting for that phone call.” He said, walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

Melody breathed deeply and began heading back to the Penguin’s room.

~~~~~

To say Oswald was surprised when he opened his bedroom door would be an understatement. The first thing he noticed was a flowery smell, courtesy of the scented candles Melody lit. The candles gave off an intimate lighting, perfect for the occasion. But what surprised him was the Lark was laying in the bed, only reading. The look of her reading a thick novel on his bed was so intellectual and endearing.

The fair skinned girl looked up and slowly sat up on his bed, smiling as she shut his copy of Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. “There he is.” She said, her voice soft and sweet, smiling. The candle light gave a glow to her skin as he approached her, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

“Did you do this just for me, little bird?” He cooed, smiling at the girl.

She slowly nodded, kneeling on the bed. "Of course, Mr. Penguin." She purred, gently holding one of his jackets lapels, holding his tie with her free hand. Her wiry fingers gripping his windsor knot, she pulled him down for an eager kiss. She missed the feeling of his soft lips, smooth and unchapped. She pulled away with a soft flush and a smirk.

Oswald looked at the thin woman in amusement. "Are you playing games, my dove?" He asked, smiling. He got on the bed and gripped her hips, pulling her close. 

Melody giggled as the Penguin began kissing down her jaw and neck to the collar of her night gown. He unbuttoned it until the shoulders began to slip off her body. He held the sleeves and pulled them down her body, so her bare chest was in his view.

The Lark was very familiar with this part. With Oswald, they never had sex. They made love, despite not being romantically involved. He took the time to examine her beauty and to leave her satisfied. He began to kiss around her upper body, sucking on her breasts as she gripped his dark hair, shutting her eyes.

Melody could feel the heat pool between her legs. She bit her bottom lip and gasped when his hand slid under the nightgown, where it clung on her hips. "Wait… Oz… hold on…" She said, and of course, he instantly stopped. His light eyes met hers and she smirked. "You focus on removing your shirt. I have something in mind for you."

As she got down on her knees before him, Oswald began to unbutton his shirt when he saw something that made him halt and made his blood boil.

Her skirt had ridden up and on her inner thigh was a dark bruise. And not one you could get from a harsh collision. It was a love bite. A hickey. And not from him.

Before she could go down on him, he placed a hand on her forehead to stop her. "... What is that?"

"What is-?"

"Melody… have you been with another man?" He said, voice monotone. The tone made her blood run cold

"I-"

"I think it'd be best if you were to leave…"

"But, Oswald-"

"Now!" He growled, infuriated. "You harlot!"

She pulled her nightgown back up and began to rebutton it, facing the door, about to leave. She then turned to him and pointed to the novel she was reading when he entered, which now rested on his nightstand.

"Tolstoy." She said.

"What the fuck does Tolstoy have to do with you leaving?!" Penguin demands.

"... In his novel, Andrei Bolkonsky tells Pierre Bezukhov that a fallen woman should be forgiven…" She states.

Penguin glared at her. "Yes… but I can't forgive…" He growled. "Because me?" He pressed his hand on the door on either side of her head, panting hard, anger quite clear. "Being magnanimous and benevolent? We both know I'm not that noble." He spat. "Now. Get. Out!" He growled.

The Lark gripped the door knob and ran out and fled to her room, locking the door in fear, hiding in the closet. She knew Penguin would request her attendance later. And she was right to be afraid.


	3. Demon Purse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback, comments, and kudos is appreciated.

"Miss Connelly?" Nygma's soft voice came from the doorway of Melody's room. The girl, after calming down from Oswald's discourse, was sitting on her bed.

“... Yes, Mister Nygma?” Melody said softly, looking to the tall man.

“... Oswald would like to see you?”

Shivers went down her spine. “I think I’ll stay up here, if that’s alright…”

Nygma, not wanting to prod the girl, nodded. “I’ll tell him.” The girl nodded, laying on her stomach, her head turned to the side, looking out her large window at the cloudy sky.

Barely 5 minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. The door opened, but she didn't know who it was until she heard his voice. “Doll. Boss wants to see you.” Victor said, leaning against the door frame, fixing his dark leather gloves.

She grit her teeth. “No. I will not come. Leave.” She almost growled. The hitman shrugged, going down the hall, down the staircase to the dining room where Oswald sat, impatient.

“She’s not coming.” Victor said with a shrug.

Oswald was fuming. “Did she say why?” He asked, gripping his wine glass, filled with Riesling.

“She wasn’t feeling well? I don’t know.” The assassin took a seat, taking a sip from her wine glass. “I wasn’t listening.” He grabbed a piece of bread, taking a bite before looking up at Oswald’s irritated face. “... It’s just gonna go to waste.” He explained.

"Convince her." Oswald commanded, looking frustrated. "I find her, I take her into my home-"

"I'll see what I can do." Victor said, going back up the stairs, down the corridor, then knocked on the large door of her bedroom with his glock. "Boss really wants to see you." Victor reminded her through the heavy, mahogany door.

Melody opened the door but immediately froze when he placed the pistol on her forehead. Her blue eyes widened, looking up at the barrel of the gun. Her mouth dried up as she slowly looked at Zsasz.

He smiled and tilted his head. "Penguin would like to see you." He sing-songed.

Melody swallowed thickly, raising her hand in surrender. “... Okay…” She agreed. “You got me. I’ll go…" The Lark stepped out, only for her to squeak when Zsasz grabbed her waist and pulled her close roughly, pressing a fierce kiss to her lips.

Melody could hardly breath when Victor released her with a wide grin. "Good girl." He purred, appreciatively.

She turned red as he led her toward the stairs, his hand on the small of her back, only moving his hand when they reached the dining room.

"Here's the bird, Boss." He said. "It took some convincing… but I do good work."

"I'll take it from here, Victor. You're excused." Oswald waves the hit man away, glaring at Melody from over his steeped fingers.

The heavy door closed menacingly as Victor left. Melody looked anywhere but at Oswald. "Melody… look at me…" She refused to look at him. "Look at me!" He demands.

"Why?! So you can throw another tantrum?!" She scoffed, glaring at the black haired man. He growled, now it being his turn to avoid her gaze. "Look at me…" He glared at his cup, still full of the Riesling. "Look at me!" She said, voice breaking. He shook his head. "God!" She picked up the wine glass on her side of the table, throwing it at him, the flute narrowly missing his head. "WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME?!" The glass shattered against the wall behind Oswald.

The man with the limp stood up, his blue eyes fixated on the woman. “My mother warned me, you know.” He growled. “My whole life, she warned me about women like you.”

“‘Women like me?! What the hell is that supposed to mean, Oswald?!” She hissed, knowing exactly what he meant.

He hobbled over to her, and glared down at her, taller than her by at least 4 inches. “Painted whores. Like you.” Melody scoffed, looking away. He grabbed her chin, moving her face so she had to look at him. “Who else have you gotten tangled in your demon purse… you hussy…”

Melody clawed his face, her short nails making contact with his pale face, still managing to cut one area. His blue eyes widened. He thought this girl was different. He met her on the street, and even then, she was so soft and warm. Docile. Now she had attacked him, even barely. He looked at her, slowly. The lark had her hands covering her mouth. “Oswald… I’m sorry…” She whispered, her blue eyes wide in remorse. “Oswald…” She reached out to touch his injured cheek when he grabbed her wrist tightly, turning her so she was pressed against the edge of the table, pushing dishes aside to clear the area. “Oswald!” She said when her back made contact with the harsh contour of the glossy, cherry wood table.

He looked into her eyes. “Tell me when you want me to stop.” He said, coldly. He kissed her briefly, before turning her so she faced the other side of the room, away from him. He pulled the hem of her night shirt up to her waist. Melody blushed darkly as he yanked her purple panties down her legs, leaving them dangling between her thighs. She could hear the jangling of his belt as he undid it and the shuffling of his dress pants.

Oswald entered the girl without much of a warning, prompting the Lark to immediately let out a squeal, her upper body falling onto the table in front of them. She gasped as he grabbed her hips, thrusting inside of her roughly, some of her blonde hair falling into her face. Oswald pressed his lips against her shoulders, before biting down on her pale skin. “You’ve been such a naughty dove, haven’t you been? Such a flirtatious,” He paused as his hand slapped against her round bottom, “Provacative,” He paused again with another hit, “philandering woman.” 

Meadow’s hands sprawled out against the polished surface, searching for something to hold on to. Anything. Little gasps and moans crawled out of her throat as she threw her head back, trying to get her golden locks out of her view. The more she moaned, the faster the Penguin went. He moved his hands away from her wide hips to grip her breasts.

The girl shakily moved hair from her face and turned, catching sight of the door of the room. The door was cracked open slightly, and, despite the darkness of the corridor outside the dining room, she caught the whites of somebody’s eyes, and then deep, dark brown pupils, watching as Oswald penetrated the woman. Zsasz was watching.

Meadow felt heat run through her body, feeling her core grow slicker from Oswald’s actions and the excitement of being watched by the hitman, as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Oswald suddenly slipped out of her, and with a “Fuck,” reached his climax, spraying a mess on the panties between her knees.

Oswald stepped away from the weak woman, wiping his forehead. “I’ll have them heat up the food. Dinner’s in an hour… get cleaned up. Edward will be joining us.” He said, pulling his pants up, redoing the lacing of his belt. The girl shakily stood up, slipping her panties off, fixing the hem of her night shirt as she limped toward the door, her legs sore. She had half a mind to yell at the assassin. Scream at him. Maybe even hit him.

However, when she got there, Zsasz was nowhere to be seen.


	4. Guess Who?

Despite the evening's earlier activities having Melody hoping everything was resolved, she was sorely mistaken.

Edward, Oswald, and the young woman sat at the table; the atmosphere unsociable. Even wearing Oswald's favorite outfit didn't warm the cold glare he offered the blonde. In her sheer blouse and black pencil skirt, she felt bare and judged.

"Did you wear that outfit for Edward?" The Penguin suddenly asked, pressing his fist against his lips, staring at the woman across the table. Edward looked at his friend in confusion. "Did you want to show him your bra? To flash your tits at him?"

Melody almost spat out her Riesling, the white wine flavor turning sour with his venom laced words. She wheezed, wiping her mouth. "I… I wore this outfit because it's one of your favorites…" She said softly, almost bashfully.

"Look at her, Edward… isn't she beautiful?" Oswald asked, openly ignoring Melody's statement.

Edward looked at Oswald in confusion. Was this a trick question? A test? "I… well… uh…" Edward wasn't quite sure what was the right answer. "I do think Miss Connelly is lovely?" He said, almost as if he was asking a question.

Oswald nods. "Hmm… is that so? Don't fret. I'm sure she'll let you have your turn before she goes and screws her way through Gotham."

A clatter was heard when the silverware slid out of Melody's hands. Edward slowly looked at the girl, taking in her red, humiliated face. Melody glared at Oswald and let out a bitter laugh. “I’m sorry Oswald… what will make you happy? Whipping your dick out to have a cock fight with the man who ‘defiled’ me? Is that what you want? For fuck’s sake…”

Edward slowly, tentatively slid from him seat. “Yeah… I’m going to just-”

“No, no.” Oswald shook his head. “Edward, take a seat… the show is just getting started…”

Melody stood up. "Tell me Ed… where on my body do you see a brand? Do you see a 'Property of Oswald God damn Cobblepot' tattooed on me?" She said.

Poor Ed did not want to get wrapped up in this. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Though the Riddler was having a field day with this. He looked into his wine glass only to see the man in the gloss of the flute.

"Hey, Edward." The Riddler said, running his hand along the brim of his bowler hat. "Tell her you can't get a good enough look with those clothes on."

"She's wearing a sheer shirt…" Edward said, feeling a red blush creep up his neck.

"Yeah? And Oswald said she's a hussy. She'll do anything to prove her point." His alter ego taunted.

Ed shook his head vigorously, trying to focus on the reality, and not the man in the wine glass.

"Oh?! I'm a brat?! That is rich!" Melody scoffed. "Coming from the man who had his mommy draw him baths well into adulthood! From a man who is now the mayor of Gotham after bad mouthing his 'friend.'" Her eyes flashed.

The Riddler leaned in so close, Edward could basically feel his breath. "Look at those eyes… big, blue, fiery…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Spunky, but innocent. Just like Miss Kringle's."

Before Oswald could stop him, Edward was gone, whirling out of the room like a bat from hell. His throat and pants were too tight for him to be there. The Riddler followed after him. “Ed! What’s a 4 letter word for ‘rooster?’”

Melody barely noticed his absence. “You are a controlling, narcissistic asshole!” She basically spat at Oswald. “I don’t belong to you! I am a human being!”

Oswald almost laughed. “I took you in! You were living on the streets! Singing when men were leering at you!” He points out.

“I never asked you to save me!” She wailed. “I never waltzed up to you and said, “Oh, please mister! I need you to save me! A poor damsel in distress!’” She said, putting on a high pitched, mocking voice. “So stop pretending you’re some hero!”

Oswald growled. “Who was it?” He finally demands, voice become quiet. And somehow, that made it meaner. “Who the fuck was it, Melody?”

Melody shook her head. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Was it Gabe?” Oswald asked. “It was him wasn’t it? That treasoning moron!”  
“Gabe? Dude, I’m twenty three, and he’s what, fifty something? No way.” Melody scoffed. “Too old. You’re younger than that. Tell you what… he’s around your age… so thirty three-ish.”

“Fine…” Oswald hissed. “Who then… The Dentist?” He asked. “It’s The Dentist, huh?”

Melody shook her head, clicking her tongue. “The only drilling he does is teeth… and he is not going anywhere near mine. I don’t even know The Dentist’s name.”

Oswald’s eyes went a bit wide. “It’s Gilzean! It has to be Gilzean! There is no one else it could be! Butch, that bumbling idiot!”

“It’s not Gilzean!” She shouts, pounding her fist on the table. Despite the length, the silverware clattered on the wood. “Butch is like, an okay guy, but he likes Galavan! Seriously, forget that, he’s not my type!” She said. “There’s no one else? Are you so damn sure about that?”

Oswald’s face grew blotchy as he bared his teeth. “Tell me who it is, you hussy!” He screamed.

Melody, however, did not appear angry. She merely sighed, pulling out the chair near Oswald. “Okay… So… I’ll tell you.” She said softly. She reached up to touch his face, before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the face. “It was Zsasz, you douche!” She snarled.

Oswald recovered from the blow as she stepped out from the chair, heading out. “It was Zsasz?!” He called out weakly.

She turned to him. “You bet!” She said, blue eyes almost glowing with anger. “We screwed basically on every surface of this house! Your study, your room, my room, the bathroom, the sun room… even on this very table. Just like you did. Same position and everything.” She smiled. “Bye, Oswald!”

Oswald stood up abruptly. “Where are you going?!” He demands.

She paused by the door. “To bed.” She informs him. She then sent him a look over her shoulder. “Oh, and, by the way, he’s bigger.”


	5. Shovel in the trunk

"I hate you…" Melody moaned out, arching the back against the wall of her room, craning her neck as Zsasz bit on her pale skin harshly.

"So you keep saying." Victor said, marking her slender neck with his teeth, hiking one of her legs against his waist.

“I do. I freaking hate you.” She said, reaching for his sliced up arm, rolling the dark sleeve of his shirt up. Noticing a recent tally mark, she licked the cut, causing a slight hiss to come from Zsasz’s lips, a coppery taste lingering on her tongue. He nearly tore open the tight black buttoned shirt she wore to kiss down her chest, her pale hand resting on his head.

“Oswald knows.” Melody warned the assassin. “I told him it was you. He asked.”

Zsasz kept nibbling at her soft skin. “What’s he going to do? Fire me? He can’t find a better assassin…” He points out. And he was right. He hired the best.

Melody tilted her head back as Zsasz went to bite her collarbone when the doorbell rang throughout Oswald’s estate. Melody shut her eyes. “Are you fucking joking…” She growled, stopping the bald man and buttoning her shirt as she left the room, heading to the front door. “Can I help you?” She huffed.

She was faced with a man with neatly combed dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes. Behind him was an older man with long graying brown hair and a beard, wearing a fedora. The younger man spoke first. “Hello. My name is James Gordon, this is my partner, Harvey Bullock. Detectives with the GCPD.” He flashed his badge at the girl. “I was wondering if Oswald Cobblepot was here.”

Melody’s brows furrowed. “He’s not. He left earlier in the day with Edward Nygma. If he were here, he wouldn’t come to the door anyway. I bruised his ego too much.” She knew they wouldn’t understand why. She didn’t care much regardless.

The older man’s brows furrowed as he looked at the girl. “Don’t I know you?” He asked. “I feel like I do.”

Melody nodded. “That’s right. You tipped me five dollars once a couple years ago when I used to sing on the corner of Canal. A week later I used a pay phone to report a dead body and you were on the case.”

Harvey nodded. “I see. Good to see you… Mallory…” He said, scratching his beard.

“Melody.” She corrected, politely. “It’s Melody Connelly, Detective Bullock.”

“Right.” He nods. “Well, could you tell Penguin that we stopped by?”

Before another word could leave the blonde girl's mouth, a pair of pale, cut up arms wrapped around the girl’s slender waist. Zsasz placed his chin on her right shoulder, smiling at the detectives. “Hi, Jim.” He said, his voice mock polite.

Jim slowly reached for his firearm. “Zsasz…” He said, slowly looking at Melody to see if she were in danger. A shake of the blue eyed girl’s head made him relax.

“I’ll tell the penguin you stopped by, Detectives.” She assured the men. “And, Mr. Bullock, thank you for the five dollars. Bought me dinner that night.”

Harvey nods. “Good to see you’re, uh,” The cop looked at the doorway she stood in. “Doing well for yourself.”

With a nod, she shut the door and elbowed Zsasz. “You’re an asshole… we were just having a chat.” She pointed out.

Zsasz placed his leather gloved hands on her hips, turning her to face him. “Was it a chat-chat or a shovel-in-the-trunk-chat?” He said, his lips against her ear, her face turning slightly red.

“Come on Zsasz.” She said, leading him up the grand staircase. “I want your shovel in my trunk. We don’t have much time until Oswald comes back, and you still barely got me hot.”

Zsasz simply picked her up, throwing her onto his shoulder, walking up the stairs, down the halls to her bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed’s mattress with a slight bounce.

“I’m not going to wait much longer.” Zsasz warned, unbuckling his belt, the metal hitting the floor with an audible clang.

Melody sat up on her forearms with a grin. “Good. I was waiting on you.” She said, pulling her shirt off again and working on her own pants.

Victor pulled out his pistol, pressing the metal against her forehead. “You better get rid of those panties right the fuck now, then.”

~~~

Oswald walked into his seemingly empty house with Edward. “It was like amateur hour out there!” He complained, over the top with his criticism. “It was ridiculous.”

“I’m sure they were trying their best, Oswald.” Edward said, trying to calm Oswald’s annoyance.

“Not enough.” He hissed, narrowing his blue eyes. “Not nearly enough!” He walked through his house, his cane clacking against the hardwood floor. “Some people are about to lose their jobs to people who can do it right.”

“Maybe you can give them another chance?” Edward said, pacing behind his shorter friend.

“This is so ridiculous.” Oswald muttered behind his grit teeth, going up the stairs of his home. “Let’s just get Melody so we can go out to dinner.”

Edward winced. “I think Miss Connelly is still mad at you, Oswald.”

‘Well, Miss Connelly needs to get over herself.” Oswald growled, swinging her heavy door wide open without warning. “Melody get ready we are-” He went silent at the sight he was witnessing. Melody’s pale legs were on Victor’s naked shoulders as the hitman hovered above her, inside her. They both were flushed and frozen as though in some erotic tableaux.

Oswald stared at the two fornicators, angry and undeniably aroused. “When you are done being a whore… we’re going out to dinner.” Oswald nearly spat out, slamming the door, his face flushed.

Edward took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes to try to wipe the scene he just witnessed from his memory. “... Dinner in an hour then?” He said softly.

Oswald hobbled away to his bedroom to take care of his newly formed bulge in his dress pants. “That sounds about right…” Oswald hissed, disgusted with himself.


	6. Three Months Before

~3 months earlier~

Oswald couldn’t stand the way these men were leering at her. This poor girl singing on the street corner. With her bright blue eyes and surprisingly neat blonde hair, the girl sang, a hat out by her feet to collect whatever tips people on this busy Gotham street corner would drop for her.

Despite her somewhat pathetic way to make money, she had a brilliant smile on her sweet and open face, as if the men cat-calling didn’t bother her. Penguin walked past her, putting a five dollar bill in her hat. Their matching blue eyes met and she gave him a kind smile.

A stranger giving him that warm smile ran a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than his mother smiled at him. He offered a strained, tight smile in return, this girl making him feel uneasy, yet comfortable. She waved with a flutter on her fingers as she continued to sing gently.

Oswald felt his face warm as he continued to walk down the busy street with his cane and ruffled hair, about to meet up with Butch Gilzean, trying to get her out of his head. He had more important things to focus upon.  
~~~  
Surprise of all surprises, he couldn’t get her out of his head. Every time he walked down that street, the girl would be there, singing her heart out. Every time he passed her, he would leave her five dollars. Every time she smiled, his smile would become more natural. It went that way for a while.

That was until one day when he walked by and she didn’t sing. She just sat on the corner, her lips cut up and busted, her left eye bruised. She still offered a smile to the people who passed, her hat out. Oswald was walking and paused, staring at her. She met his eyes for a moment, before quickly looking away. She closed her blue eyes, offering a kind, but forced smile.

“Hello sir.” She greeted, a drop of rain falling onto her forehead, running down to the tip of her small, delicate nose.

Oswald held a large black umbrella over his head, tugging on the cross tie by his collar, awkwardly. “You’re not singing today.” He stated the obvious.

The blonde girl let out an awkward, but exhausted laugh. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” She said before biting on her lip, one of the cuts reopening, some blood dripping down her chin, running off with some of the precipitation that streaked her face.

He grimaced, reaching into the breast pocket to retrieve a monogrammed handkerchief. “Your lip is bleeding.” He said, flatly. “Use this… just, God, fix it.”

She gasped and pressed it to her lip. “Thank you so much!” She squeaked.

He continued to stare at the wet girl, her clothes thin and clinging to her skin. “Why don’t you go home?” He asked. “It’s raining, you know?” He pointed out. He wasn’t trying to be a dick. It was just he wasn’t used to dealing with such kind people.

She pulled another strained beam gracing her face. “I’m afraid I have nowhere to go.” She said with a breathless chuckle, her eyes looking downwards.

Oswald’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing a bit. “What do you mean, you have nowhere to go?” He demands.

She tilts her head. “Sir, why do you think I’m singing on a street corner?” She said. “A girl’s gotta eat.”

Oswald just shook his head, placing twenty dollars in her hat. “Get something to eat and get indoors… you’re going to catch pneumonia. You can’t sing if you’re all sick.”

She gaped at the money in her hat, blue eyes wide. She had never had that much money in her cap. At the end of the day, she had 10 on a good day. She looked up at him, but he was already walking down the street at this point. She stood up trying to catch his attention. “Hey! Thank you!” She yelped.

Oswald looked at her, offering a brief smile, before resuming his trek. He had to meet with Gilzean after all.  
~~~

It was dark outside, the moon shining in the dark Gotham sky, a cloud passing over part of it. Oswald was heading back home, slightly relieved the girl wasn’t outside anymore in the drizzling weather.. Maybe she found a nice shelter to stay in for a night. He sighed and shook his head, walking down the street. The weather wasn’t the best, but the temperature was quite ideal. Not quite cold as long as his clothes were dry. He decided he could walk a while before getting a car. Well, limp anyway. Fresh air was good for him.

He walked a while longer. He was about three of four blocks away from his initial point before deciding to finally call to get a ride, when he heard some voices from a nearby alleyway. He usually would have avoided the alley. Why would it affect him, what happened in the lane? It wasn’t his fight? Not his issue. But of course, he poked his head in. He heard that damn girl pleading. He couldn’t ignore it. Not this time.

He slowly closed his umbrella, trying to hobble down the alley as quietly as he could. He got nearer to the altercation and ducked behind a dumpster, gripping his umbrella tightly. The blonde haired girl was backed against a wall, with the two men looming over her.

“Please… I only have five dollars left.” She pleaded. “Take it! But it’s all I have! Honest!” Her blue eyes were wide and tearful with fear, holding out the green bill.

One man snatched it. “I don’t buy it. We don’t trust it. Whores are liars.” He looked at his friend. “Search her. She might have a wallet… or money in her pockets.” He said. “Search everywhere.” He said.

His sidekick took a step closer to the blue eyed girl, who put her arms up to shield her face. But the leader let out a grunt as he fell to the ground, Oswald standing behind him with his umbrella in the air to strike the tall man again. His comrade didn’t like that. Not at all.

His friend temporarily forgot about his main objective, and ran toward the short man. Oswald then jabbed the man with his umbrella as he ran to him, impaling the man. The girl gasped and covered her mouth, something acidic filling in her throat.

Oswald kicked the man off this umbrella, letting him bleed out on the ground. He casually looked at the girl. “... You seem to have a habit of getting yourself into less than savory situations.” He noted.

She looked at the man’s dead body, before looking at Oswald. “I’m so sorry you got involved, sir!” She squealed. “You didn’t need to do that!” She said, tears escaping her blue eyes. “I apologize! You didn’t need to help me!”

Oswald’s hands balled into fists. “Don’t apologize!” He said, harshly. Why was she crying?! “Get over yourself!” Melody covered her mouth, more tears rushing down her face. Oswald sighed. “I’m sorry…” He muttered out. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” She shook her head quietly. “What’s your name?” He finally asked after weeks of passing her on the street.

Her blue eyes finally met him. “... M-Melody.” She revealed. “Melody Connelly.”

Oswald stared at her a minute before smiling, looking at the ground. “Of course.” He said, then looked at her. “I can see why your name is Melody. You certainly can carry one.” She blushed, looking at her feet. “You’re like a little songbird. A lark.” He decides. He then took her thin arm. “You’re coming with me.”

She stared at him. “I am?”

“You are.” He repeats. “I’m heading home. You’re coming with me. We’ll get you some food. We’ll give you a room to sleep in.” He decides.

Melody gulped. “Sir. In case you couldn’t understand, I’m not in the financial state to pay for that.”

“Free of charge.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

He shot her a look over his shoulder as he opened his umbrella over the two of them. “You didn’t. I offered.” Melody watched the blood of her assailant run off the umbrella with the rain as he pulled out his phone, demanding a car to come pick them up.  
~~~  
Later that night, after eating and wearing a pair of Oswald’s pajamas, she sat on the bed of his guest room. There was a knock on the door. “Are you decent?” A voice asked.

“I… yes.” She answered, scooching further onto the bed.

A pale, hairless man entered the room, his dark eyes boring into her, making her feel utterly and completely exposed.. He examined her bitten up lips, her bruised eyes, and washed-out color of her skin, then merely nodded. “Right. So, hi. I’m Victor Zsasz.” He introduced himself. “I will be here to protect you if Penguin is out of the house for a few days at a time.” She nodded quietly. “I’m here quite often, so don’t be too surprised if you see me.” She nodded again, in silence. “Also, I want to put this out here. I’m an assassin.” She bristled. He found that amusing. “So, if Penguin wants you dead.” He smirked. “I’ll kill you in an instant.” She stared at him, like a deer in headlights. “Anyway.” He smiled, knocking on the doorway. “Sleep tight!”


End file.
